I feel a bit sleepy now that it’s 1:00 AM, but I’ve realized that I’ve been in a mental standstill for the past few months. I would often think of something to do, then write my plans for it in a notebook, but at the end of every day, I end up doing nothing for it. I admit I am prone to laziness and forgetfulness (which I think is a very unhealthy combination), that I write almost every idea I have in a small notebook that I bring around with me everyday. Suffice to say that writing down my thoughts has helped me remember many things, such as my train of thoughts and feelings. I’ve learned from a Psychology lecture that although people may have “photographic memory” or “long memory,” we cannot be completely sure of things we remember. Sure, we may remember how we felt, the people we’ve met on a certain day, the things we bought, the places we’ve been to, and so on, but sooner or later we will have to accept that our minds and our memories can be faulty.
We may remember bits and pieces of a certain occasion dues to “context clues” such as friends, or decorations, or memorable objects, but one cannot be a hundred-percent sure of what happened many years ago. I’ve collected several notebooks I’ve filled up with ideas, thoughts, and notes throughout the past few years, even while I was working on my thesis. Now, as I browse through some of the pages, I realized that keeping notes isn’t just a way to compensate for my forgetfulness, but it also chronicles how my thought processes, character and personality, values and ideals have changed as I grow older. Each second that passes you by becomes part of history; any idea you might have a few minutes from now could possibly be twice as better than the idea you had a few seconds ago.